


We'll Be Alright

by eighteenavenues



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:19:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eighteenavenues/pseuds/eighteenavenues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe he would have kissed her if things were different, but as they were he couldn't-- a war raged on outside and love was too real for the peaceful fairy-tale they were trying to imagine. They were going to be fine, though, they were all going to be alright. The story of James and Lily and how okay they were going to be. Maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Rejections and Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first two chapters of this story two years ago. I'm hoping to get over some recent writers block to finish it off, so it should be ~10k words when it's done. Anyway, here it is as it stands now!

He's sitting, head bowed, on the stairs and she thinks for a moment that sad people are the most beautiful people of all. His eyes are closed and his mouth forms a grim line and she reveals in his statuesque form until her heart pulls and she wishes for him to smile again.

Now she's done it.

He looks up at her, one sorry glance that makes her eyes prick with tears and she wishes she could take it all back but it had to be said and now she's really made a mess of things.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers but it's too late and not enough. She flees.

They're LilyandJames, or LILYandJAMES, as it sounds when they're having one of their classic battles of wits and lungs. She's the girl of fire and he's smoother than silk and everyone always knew they'd burn too bright, come too close to the sun, and then fall together. But the happy ending everyone's always expected doesn't take into account the pain of the red herring moment, the this-is-almost-it moment, the breaking point. And this is it, the breaking point has arrived and she thinks that she might've accidentally done it, might've actually broken LilyandJames into Lily and James for good.

She told him she could never love him and it sounded like a lie to her ears but not his and he broke a little bit and so did she, fractures along the surface and rifts within.

He falls into bed and into sleep and his heart feels hollow and his veins feel empty. His friends understand and cover for him the next day with muttered excuses that the teachers take as truth. He sleeps for too long and not long enough, wishing the whole time that he could burrow under the covers and never come out. His eyes close for visions of fire and freckles and he would hate her if he could but he can't.

She goes to class the next day, circles that look like bruises under her eyes and a grayness to her skin that had never been there before. Her friends cast her worried glances but she pretends she's fine because she can't fall apart, she can't come undone because that's just not how Lily Evans works and fear of breaking is exactly why she broke him in the first place.

She misses him.

And life goes on. It passes them by as they each live in a silent hell, the kind of hell that kills with long, mundane days and is accompanied by a chill you can feel in your bones. She feels so heavy, like she'll never move again, and no woolen jumpers seem to fix the cold.

He's outside for the first time in what feels like forever because he can't ignore his team, though he would've tried if not for Sirius' bludgeoning him into submission. He gives a halfhearted command to set them up for a drill and no one dares refusing his order because he looks like a gust of wind could carry his mind off forever.

And then he's flying! The wind tears a smile on his face and he forgets why he's waited so long for this form of therapy. His feet can't touch the ground and somehow having his head in the clouds finally feels okay. He ignores the thought of fire for the icy touch of mist across his cheeks. The cold lifts from his bones and being weightless helps his heavy heart. And he realizes in one moment, as if lightening had struck his broom and had given him a quick flash of brilliance, that everything was going to be okay.

"What next, chief?" One of his teammates calls and he dives to the ground, letting out a whoop of joy before demanding a grueling workout from them. "He's back," Sirius says with an ear to ear grin.

"Yeah, I am," James quietly agrees.

She watches him from the window and wipes away a tear. He looks so free and she can't liberate herself from the torture that she forced upon the two of them.

"Why did you do it?" Alice sits next to her, asking slowly after pulling her into a warm and friendly hug. "You like him, maybe even love him, so why'd you tell him to leave you alone?"

"Because," Lily says, "I thought I would be happier without him."

Alice lays a kind hand on her arm, "and are you?"

"No."

They lock eyes during Defense Against the Dark Arts and she swears the tension could be cut with a knife and the electricity could shock her into oblivion or at least explain his hair. He runs a self-conscious hand through it and she looks down, blinking back tears.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers.

"Huh?" her partner, a nice Hufflepuff boy, looks up.

"Nothing," she says quickly, glancing over at James once more. He doesn't meet her eyes. In that instant, the smile drops from James' face and she thinks again how beautifully he wears tragedy and then she hates herself for bringing it upon him. "Nothing," she repeats, shaking away the cobwebs that cloud her mind and seem to be suffocating her.

It's Christmas vacation and by some stroke of misfortune or maybe luck, he can't tell which is which at this point, they're both staying at Hogwarts.

"It's only going to be "home" for a little longer," Lily tries to explain to Alexandra Locke.

"My parents are still working, there's no one at home," James tells the same girl, a giggling blonde who never stops batting her eyelashes and twirling her hair around her finger when he's around. She writes a desperate plea home, hoping to stay so she can show him how much better she is than that dratted  _Lily Evans_ , but it's to no avail and she gets on the train the very next day.

The Marauders are all staying, each one desperately trying to pretend that they never have to grow up by determining to stay within the four walls of Hogwarts as long as possible. None voice this to any of the others but they all know that it's lurking under the surface of their collective decision to stay and each conversation they have. The end is near, a dramatic sentiment but a true one nonetheless.

It's midnight and she's wandering the halls, thankful that she's the one that would be out catching students and thus will not be caught in her meandering. She finds herself in the kitchens and the house elves make her hot chocolate and let her sit by the fire and warmth blooms in the pit of her stomach as she looks up and he's entering through the portrait hole. He's seen her and she's seen him and rushing out would now be too awkward so they stay glued to their spots. They don't say anything. He sits at a chair on the other side of the room and sips at warm cider until it's late and he heads back to the dorm.

She spends too much time trying to forget, which seems a pity because all she can seem to do is remember. She can't shake the thoughts that flood her mind, the moments that he remembered something small or did something that was wonderfully thoughtless and still somehow kind. When he stood up for her, when he protected her, when he opened doors or teased her with a smile or fetched her cocoa because she was feeling sick. When he said "just you wait, Lily Evans, I'll make you love me yet." And then, the memory that bites her with sharp pangs of sadness, when she said "no you won't. I'll never love you, Potter."

He had never listened before. He had shrugged off her rejections with faraway eyes and a never faltering smile and nothing had ever changed by her denying him until it did. Until he stopped asking for the most part and grew up for the most part and things between them settled into a normal friendship, the kind with witty banter and late-night talks, the kind that made her start feeling something for him that was terribly great and frightening. And then he wasn't up to his old tricks exactly but had somehow sensed her change in perspective and was maybe too flirtatious.

He always came back. That was the thing about James Potter, no matter how poorly she treated him, he always came back and tried again until that one time he didn't and now it was killing her.

The next night she goes down to the kitchens for hot chocolate and he goes down for cider and they see each other so leaving would be too awkward. They sit there, a room apart, until it's late, and then he goes back to the dorm to sleep and she stays awake thinking of the boy who she thought was made of steel but turned out to be constructed of glass.

"Fancy a fly, mate?" Sirius says the next morning and James nods, needing weightlessness to lift his heart and put it back into its rightful place. The sky swallows his thoughts and he's never been more grateful. Sirius loops around him, teasing the boy forward and faster until they're both letting out whoops of joy and pulling dangerous stunts because they're boys, they're SiriusandJames and that's what they do. Sirius doesn't give voice to his relief, but he's happy his friend is back.

Stiff muscles make it too difficult to sleep, so James wanders down the kitchens that night and takes his spot on the stool across the room from the fire and then, like clockwork, she stumbles through the door an hour later. She looks surprised that he's there but she can't retreat now so she gets her cocoa and sits by the fire and surprises herself by crying.

"I'm so sorry," she says loud enough that he hears it and quiet enough that he believes it.

Maybe if things were different, he'd tell her now that this was just a test for their love and she'd still fall for him one day and they'd have a picket fence, two kids, and a dog, but he doesn't say that because things are the way they are. Instead he replies, "I am too," and she wishes things were different for a brief moment but they're not. The words feel like a bridge made of cobwebs between them and she knows it'll collapse with any weight at all, but it still feels like something and she's so very thankful.

They walk back to the common room together, saying nothing but also feeling no bitterness. He pauses before retreating up the boys' stairs but can't think of the right words. She almost says "thank you" but can't seem to move her lips so they both stay silent.

Morning comes with its pure, white light and she looks out her window to see snow falling softly. With a girlish shriek and a childish squeal, she wakes up Alice and Emmeline, both also staying to take advantage of the last winter at Hogwarts, and the three bundle themselves up in jumpers and scarves and run down the stairs to the open expanse of the Quidditch field.

Sirius roughly pulls James, Peter, and Remus from their beds, shouting something about snow, and they boys go bounding down the stairs to the perfect place for a snowball fight- the Quidditch field.

"Who's that?" Alice asks, shielding her eyes from the winter sun and looking towards four figures coming their way.

"No clue," Lily replies, hitting her friend with a snowball. Emmeline takes advantage of Alice's distraction as well, throwing another snowball her way but missing by a narrow margin. The targeted girl screams a laugh and returns fire.

"Hey ladies," Sirius greets them, looking like trouble with a smirk and a not-so-secret store of snowballs hidden in a floating line behind him. He glances over at James, worried his friend won't react well to the presence of a certain redhead, but the boy is too busy talking to Remus to express any hesitation and Sirius takes this as permission to engage in war with the girls, launching snowball after snowball at them until they're pleading false mercy, ready to form an attack of their own with the cover of surprise.

The girls build a fort, holding their wands in their half-frozen fingers and directing piles of snow to form shelter from the vicious invading army. The boys cry "not fair!" but grin and sneak around to dump snow on the girls. Emmeline tears apart from the pack, screaming a war cry and hurdling snowballs at the shocked Marauders. Lily creeps around the other side, taking advantage of the boys' redirection of attention to toss snow at Peter.

"Oi!" Sirius calls to her over Peters shrieks, "going for Pete? That's low, real low." She sticks her tongue out in response, laughing at his expression. "Thought you were the mature one, Ms. Head Girl," he says and she grins before retreating back to the fort for safety.

"Here's what we do," Emmeline tells the two other girls, "set your eyes on a boy and get him, each of us pick one and whoever's done first can get the last one." She thinks for a moment, "Peter should probably be the leftover, he couldn't stop us if he tried. Let's show these boys what we're made of." Alice and Lily nod and Emmeline smiles broadly, "on three, ready? One, two," the girls crawl to different exits of the fort in readiness, "THREE!"

Emmeline streaks toward Sirius, ignoring the snowballs he throws to instead tackle him to the ground. Alice runs at Remus, blushing slightly as he embraces her in an effort to pin her still. Lily, the slowest of her friends, looks at Peter and the last first priority target left, James. "Bloody hell, of course it would be him," she mutters. Their eyes meet and the tension is palpable. He knows what she's supposed to do, as does she, and they both know she's hesitating because of their history.

Something in him snaps and damn, he misses that girl. He runs at her, gently tackling her to the ground and rolling to avoid hurting her on impact. "Gotcha," he whispers and if things were different, he would lean in for a kiss but they're not, and just like he refrained over a warm mug of cider, he stays still and silent now.

She smirks and he's too distracted by the snowflakes that are stuck to her eyelashes to realize that she's performed a silent spell that has a load of snow levitating just over him. "Oh do you?" She asks innocently before dropping it.

He screams and she laughs and Alice stops fighting with Remus to stare. "I knew they'd get over that stupid fight," he tells her and she nods, relief evident. "Though I was worried about him for a bit."

"They're going to be fine, aren't they?" she asks the open air.

"They're going to be Lily and James, they'll be as fine as they can be. I suspect they'll still be bickering when they're an old married couple." Remus responds.

She smiles, "I suppose so."

It's a battle of not-so-epic proportions, a bunch of children shivering and screaming and throwing bullets that fall apart on contact. The group falls into a heap for a rest and Alice gives voice to the similarities between their game and the terrifying outside world. The girls nod with the gravity of the situation and the boys' eyes blaze as they trip over their words, swearing they'll fix the world's wrongs with their unflinching bravery while the girls try not to think of the current death toll and how impossible it can be to stop a machine in motion.

"Whatever happens," Remus says and they go silent to listen, "I'm not bringing kids into this war."

"We are kids," Alice says, tears prickling her eyes, "and the war will come to us no matter what we wish for."

Remus shakes his head slowly at her misunderstanding, "no, I mean I'm not going to have kids or anything, I don't want anyone else to have to live like we do."

"That's all," Lily swallows thickly, "years away. The war will be over by the time we're ready for that."

Peter looks at her, breaking his meek silence to whisper "how can you be so sure?" Everyone looks at him, his question echoing in all their minds.

She doesn't have an answer. The weight of the world falls off their shoulders as they give a collective shrug and they escape to the Great Hall for food and the chance to forget for just a little while longer. Their home is to be shed in a matter of months and none of them think they are ready for the danger of the real world, no matter how frequently and loudly they claim they are. They are kids, fragile and innocent and still shining, the grime of the "real world" not yet covering them and forcing them to become cynics. James finds himself unable shake a morbid notion that Lily was wrong- the war was not going to be over until they were dead and buried, but the frown doesn't stay on his lips for long because he also can't shake the notion that no matter how hard she tries to deny it, there's electricity between them. The first time he met the redhead he had known what he still knows now, she'll fall in love with him one day. And when she does, he silently vows, he'll catch her with open arms and they'll live happily ever after, or something like that.

"What're you smiling about?" Sirius asks, punching him in the shoulder.

"Nothing," James says with a small grin.

Sirius sighs overdramatically, "she's still got you good, doesn't she?"

The girl in question turns back, halfway up the stairs into the building and calls back, "are you coming or what?" and they run to catch up.


	2. Of Truth and Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was nothing James Potter could do but try to change her mind. She had put him through hell and he could never hate her. Try as she might to shake him off her tail, he'd just hold on tighter and pray it was all a trial for the future.

They gorge themselves on a warm feast, taking almost too much pleasure in the crackle of the batter from the fish as they bite down and the slurping noises from their bowls of chowder.

"My god, James," Emmeline laughs, "can you eat that any louder?" The boy grins at her, making an effort to make as much noise chewing as humanly possible. "Wanker," she mutters, shoving him a little bit. He laughs and the girls turn away in mock horror at the sight of partially masticated food.

"Ew!" Emmeline declares primly, prompting a chuckle from Sirius. "Find something funny, Black?" she asks with narrowed eyes. Sirius blows her a kiss and the table shakes with laughter at the blush that spreads up her cheeks.

"Embarrassed, Vance?" he asks, prompting the girl to blush even brighter.

"So what's the schedule for the rest of the day?" Lily interrupts her friend's humiliation to ask.

Five pairs of eyes fix her with bemused stares. Peter's eyes, of course, were practically glued to the cake that sat a mere meter and a half from his seat, which was exactly a half a meter too far for him to reach.

"Schedule?" Sirius finally chokes out. "We're on holiday and you want the schedule?"

"Lily, love," Remus says kindly, "the schedule is do whatever-"

"Whatever the bloody hell you want!" Sirius completes a more profane sentence than his friend ever would have. The group laughs at her blank expression. James' chuckle is low and rumbling and she finds herself entranced by the sound, but quickly shakes away that notion and focuses on the task at hand.

She considers his answer for a moment, "well, then, what are we doing next?"

He gives her a look that makes her feel incredibly stupid. "Whatever. The. Bloody. Hell. You. Want."

Emmeline falls off the bench, laughing so hard tears come to her eyes. Lily mutters, "some friend you are," before shoving Black off the bench and on the ground next to Emmeline.

"If I get to choose," Lily says, smirking a little, "and I do because that's how your definition of this whole "holiday" thing works, I want to-"

"Why does she get to choose?" Peter whines, "I want to decide."

"I want to study!" Lily announces, offering her tablemates a cheery grin.

They stare at her for a long moment, eyebrows raised. "Pete picks," Sirius finally announces.

Lily rises, gathering her belongings. Stowing the soaking wet hat under her arm and balling the dripping scarf up she says, "we have only a few more months until N.E.W.T.s, I think it's worth the time we'll spend now to avoid cramming later."

Remus nods, getting up as well. "I actually agree with that logic."

"Great!" Lily smiles. "See you procrastinators later." She loops her arm through Remus', eliciting a slight blush from the boy, and the two walk away, chattering about Slughorn's essay assignment and how best to call forth a patronus.

"Swots," the group calls after the pair, heckling the organization and self-control they're exhibiting.

"Wish I could be like those two," Emmeline mutters.

Alice gives her friend a raised eyebrow. "You know they're going to be insufferable come time for N.E.W.T.s."

"All the more reason to hate them now!" Sirius cheerily announces, prompting a laugh from the girls.

James stays silent, lost in the thought of his arms wrapped around Lily and the look of delighted surprise on her face. She was glad they were friends, that much was clear. Gone were the days where she greeted him with revulsion, though she still wouldn't even consider the notion of the two of them. He had never doubted his future, as sure as the fact that the sun would rise and there'd be bitter coffee with breakfast, was the fact that he'd end up with Lily Evans. She had never seen eye to eye with him on this, which Sirius insisted posed a trouble as marriage, according to his best mate, had to be consensual. James never stopped insisting that she'd agree one day, she'd love him one day, until the day she made all that abundantly clear and he felt a stone in his stomach that seemed a little like hopelessness and a little like growing up. There was no denial this time, no room for declaring that she was just kidding or she misspoke. There was nothing to do but accept that Lily Evans believed she would never, ever love him.

There was nothing James Potter could do but try to change her mind. She had put him through hell and he could never hate her. Try as she might to shake him off her tail, he'd just hold on tighter and pray it was all a trial for the future.

In the meantime, the girl in question is spreading out her parchment, laying down her quills and ink pots, and arranging all the books she'll be needing for her work on the table in front of the plush chair where she's currently stationed.

Remus pulls out a quill, dips it in the ink, and starts writing, his brow furrowed in concentration. Neither speaks, the silence leaving the dust particles in the air undisturbed and floating about freely. There are a few types of silence, Lily reasons in a spare moment. There's the silences that are heavy and oppressive, used as a shield and stinging like a sword; then there's the silences that are because there's nothing left to say, those are hopelessly sad and seem to be the end of something, though she's never sure what; lastly comes the silences because there's nothing that needs to be said, those friendly silences like the one she is currently living, that allow communication beyond words or even bear no communication whatsoever.

"Does he hate me?" She asks before she can help herself. Remus serenely looks up, not seeming bothered for the distraction.

"I don't think he could ever hate you," he tells her, "though I think he hates what you do to him."

She lays a hand on Remus' arm, "I'm so sorry. You have to tell him that, make sure he knows I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I just, I mean, I'm not like him. I can't just love someone and after what he did to Sev, I don't think I could ever even learn to love him and not saying that felt like lying and he wouldn't stop talking about our future and I-"

"It's okay, Lily," Remus says, giving her a small smile, "he's a little much sometimes and it's okay that that's overwhelming for you."

She swallows thickly, eyelashes brushing her pale cheeks as she blinks back tears at the memory of his melancholic face. "It's not that he's overwhelming, it's that he's expecting the impossible. He'd do anything for me, but I just don't feel like that for him. I almost wish I did, maybe it'd be easier if I did, but I can't. I just can't. I can't see us getting old together. God, we can't make it through ten minutes of talking without yelling at each other and he's so arrogant and-"

"It's okay, Lily," Remus says again and she's so grateful he stopped her rambling.

A tear falls, she wipes it away with an impatient hand. "I don't think I even believe in love, to be honest," she chokes a laugh. He gives her a moment of silence because there's nothing else to say, the last kind of silence, the silence of friends. It's a nice quiet, allowing her to hear the humming of the lamps around them and the whistling of the wind through the window. "Just tell him I'm sorry," she says and it comes out more like a strangled whisper.

"I will," Remus promises, but he knows he could never get James to understand the panic in her eyes, the gleam of terror at being told to do something she can't even understand. She's afraid, he realizes, scared of falling or failing or something like that. She's afraid and James is brave and maybe she hates him for that a little bit just like he hates her a little bit, though he'd never admit it. Maybe they each hate each other because that's just easier. Or maybe, he thinks with a sad smile, they just hate each other a little bit because that's how they are and it really doesn't mean anything at all. Either way, he'll tell the other boy but he knows it'll make no difference at all. James would still have a broken heart and Lily would still have the broken look of guilt in her eyes because in loving or hating each other, whichever they were capable of more fully doing, they were breaking.

The two return to working, each calming the whirling of their minds with the gentle lull of easy schoolwork and the sunlight of the mid-afternoon.

The light dims and Remus becomes aware of the lateness of the hour. "Lily?" he says, getting her attention slowly as the drunkenness of a studied stupor falls off of her consciousness, "I think it's time to meet the others for dinner." She nods and they pack up, each still lost in the residual thoughts from their conversation and from the hours of work.

They clatter down the stairs, the loud noise at once jarring and joyful to their ears, so accustomed to the silence of the library. In the Great Hall, they meet the up with the rest, falling into the rowdy stories with small smiles and faraway thoughts. And so dinner passes, the time gone in laughter and Sirius' quips to Peter's utterances, clever remarks that cause the latter boy to flush with humiliation.

Soon their dishes are empty and they troop up the stairs to the tower where the girls provide Lily with the tales of their adventures and the boys punch Remus for being no fun at all.

She ends the evening in the kitchens, sliding into the comfortable routine like an old pair of jeans. The house elves bustle around, fetching her the usual and she notices with a small smile that the rickety wooden chair by the fire's been replaced by a plusher model. "For you, Ms. Evans," one elf squeaks and she thanks the small creature profusely.

James enters the room thirty minutes after midnight. They lock eyes but it's a comfortable stare, not a mournful one, and he breaks it with a smile before grabbing his mug of cider. She watches with a flutter of nerves as he turns and walks towards her, disregarding the previously used stool across the room.

"Chilly, isn't it?" He says and rubs his hands over the fire. She understands his words and what they mean and nods slowly.

"Getting warmer, though, I think," she replies.

He gives her an appraising eye, "winter's just beginning, Evans. It's going to get a hell of a lot colder before springtime." She swallows.

"Is it-" she says but stops herself to take a deep breath. Her eyes prickle and she swears over and over again that she's not going to cry in front of him. Not again.

He leans forward a little and tips his head to the side with curiosity. "Spit it out," he commands, his eyes sparkling a little and taking the edge off the rather harsh words.

She takes a long moment, pausing to sip her cocoa in a desperate attempt to drown her fearful hesitation. All she can think of is how little he's spoken to her in the past month, his mouth a grim line and eyes so sad. "Is it always going to be like this?"

"Do we know any other way to be?" He shoots back. When she doesn't respond he puts a warm hand on her arm, "Evans, winter doesn't last forever."

"I'm not talking about winter," she whispers, hardly daring to meet his eyes, "and you're not either, so cut the shite."

His hand stays on her arm, feeling like an anchor or a push off some precarious precipice. "Swearing. That's new for you."

She sighs. "That didn't answer my question,"

"You didn't ask a question," he retorts.

She reddens slightly. "This is why we can't talk, because when we do you pull this shite and then I get angry and I'm so tired of being angry,"

"I'm tired too," he murmurs, staring at the fire.

Her throat catches and her voice feels thick, "what do you want from me?"

A thousand possible answers race through his head and he doesn't say any of them because he knows they'd earn him a slap or a glare or maybe even worse. Most of all, he wants her to fall in love with him, to realize that he, James Potter, has been right the whole time and they are soul mates after all. And maybe if things were different, he'd say that. He'd tell her with a grin or with a small smile and maybe she'd laugh it off or maybe she'd agree but the way things were, he just hesitated.

"What do you want from me?" She repeats her question, eyes filled with tears that threaten to spill over.

"I don't-," he rests his head in his hands and the familiarity of the position hits her. He's still beautiful, face glowing and eyes sparkling in the light of the fire. Art is in the pain, she thinks, and beauty in the tragedy. "I don't know," he whispers.

"Why do we always do this?" She asks, still staring at him.

He takes his hand off her arm and she immediately yearns for the comforting pressure to return. "Why do you get to ask all the hard questions?" She laughs drily and waits for him to actually answer. He waits almost a full minute, the silence tearing into both of them. "Fuck, Evans, I don't know. Because we're us? Is that an answer? Because we're Lily Evans and James Potter and I suppose you're not too good at discussing your feelings and I'm not too good at being serious,"

"Of course you're not, you're James," she mutters to herself, smirking.

He looks at her. "Never heard that one before," and the two laugh just a little.

"And even with us being us you still have faith in us?" she asks.

"That made literally no sense." His eyebrows raise a little.

She takes a deep breath. "Even with the way we are, you still think we'll ride off into the sunset, till death do us part and all that?"

His face changes and she swears he's back to being an impish eleven year old who's actually terrified of the big, drafty castle and its unfamiliar occupants. He looks like a child- fragile. "That'll happen because we're us," he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, a truth that had been evident to the hazel-eyed boy for seven years. "Lily, we always figure it out. We can't stay apart. You might scream now and I might not take you seriously enough, but we always make it through. And later you'll nag and I'll not appreciate you enough but we'll make it through because that's what we do." He looks at her, taking in the wide eyes of his companion. "That's just the way I figure it, I suppose," he finishes lamely.

They sit in silence until the clock tolls once and they realize that morning's approaching and he stands up to leave, before her just as routine. "Thanks for," she pauses, wondering how she could thank him and what she should be doing it for. The word 'everything' comes to mind but its gravity isn't enough so she disregards that thought, "being so honest, tonight I mean."

"I've never lied to you, Evans," he says with a smile that lets her know that he understands what she means.

"Doesn't mean I agree with your prediction!" She says but her lips pull upwards and it comes out without any impact.

If things were different, he'd let her know that she'd change her mind yet, that she'd fall in love with him one day. Things have been changing and he barely bites back the words. "I suppose we'll see," is all he manages.

He's right before the portrait hole, ducking to fit through when she calls out one last time, "James!" he turns and looks back at her, "we're okay, right? We're still friends?"

He smiles, "yeah, Lily, we're alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the second of the two pre-written chapters. From here on out, we're flying blind (is that an expression?). Bother me into updating, if you've liked the story so far!


End file.
